The Hog Hunt
by Adamantwrites
Summary: Charles Ingalls go out to hunt down a feral hog but ends up alone and wounded until he is rescued-but then the real problems begin. Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. All original characters and plot are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.


The Hog Hunt

Charles Ingalls came storming into the house and Caroline was jarred at the expression on his face. She hadn't seen him this upset in a long time.

"Charles, what's wrong." She watched as he walked over to his rifle and pulled it off the rack, checking to make sure it was fully loaded.

"Those hogs are back. They've uprooted the whole vegetable patch." He opened a drawer and loaded his pockets with extra ammunition; he was angry at the hogs and angry with himself because he should have killed them the last time they destroyed one of his crops.

"Charles," Caroline said, grabbing his arm, "do you have to go now? There's only about two hours of light left."

"I want those hogs while they're still nearby." Charles pulled away from her and grabbed his hat. He was furious. In just a short time, that pack of feral hogs had destroyed what had taken four long months to grow and with fall coming on in about a month, there was no time to replant; there would be a lack of vegetables for canning and it was going to be a meat and beans winter for them.

"But, Charles, tomorrow you can get Mr. Frawley and his dogs to help you." Caroline didn't want Charles to go off alone, especially when he was like this. He had that streak of stubborn determination that always angered her; there was no discussion when he was like this. She knew it and yet she always hoped that he would see the logic of her arguments but in all their years of marriage, he never had.

"I'm not paying someone to do what I should've already done. And get ready for some pork to last us through the winter because I'm not coming back without some."

"But, Charles!" Caroline knew that she would have a sleepless night waiting for him to come home. "You shouldn't go alone. Please. At least take Jack."

"Jack?' The thought was ludicrous to Charles. Jack was his children's pet, not a hog-hunting dog. He'd turn tail and run. "Caroline, you can't be serious." Charles, his rifle in his hand, headed out the front door and, after a few moments, Caroline ran out after him.

"Charles, please wait." She caught up to him.

"What?" Charles was eager to get started.

"You didn't kiss me goodbye." She looked at this frustrating husband and her love for him shone in her face.

"Caroline," he said, softening as he looked at her open face, "you're still the prettiest woman this side of the Mississippi-and probably on the other side too." And they smiled at one another and Charles Ingalls kissed his wife.

"Please be home soon," Caroline pled more than asked.

Charles winked at her and then still smiling, mounted his horse and rode off. Caroline stood in the yard and watched him ride away; she had a bad feeling. But there was dinner to get for the girls and dishes to be washed and bedtime stories to be read. Right now, she didn't have time to worry. But she knew that a feeling of uneasiness would stay with her until her husband walked in the front door again.

Tracking the passel of hogs was easy. They left sharp little grooves in the ground from their hooves and Charles would see their droppings upon occasion. A few years before the Ingalls had homesteaded, a group of hogs had escaped a farmer and had become wild, foraging in what little the woods provided and rooting up gardens whenever they could. As the years had passed, the generations of hogs became more wild and more vicious, not bearing any resemblance to the domesticated animals their ancestors were.

Charles felt he should have hunted those beasts down long ago after the first time they had torn up his crops. Initially, he hadn't known what had caused the irrevocable damage to his field of green beans and squash and most of all, his tomatoes. But later, when he was talking about it with another farmer in town, the man had laughed and told Charles the tale of Mr. Layton's escaped hogs. And they both agreed that the hogs would be far more useful as bacon.

Charles, about a mile and a half from home, noticed that there was just the edge of light left, that the sun was just about to disappear behind the trees, and that he needed to turn back; he had been foolish to start out this late he admitted to himself, and he should wait until tomorrow and pay Mr. Frawley for his help and for his dogs to help him rout out and shoot those hogs. Maybe they wouldn't get them all of them, but at least they'd get a few. And then, maybe, he could get a group together one day, the other farmers who had been pestered by those rogue creatures from Hell, and they would go out and slaughter the rest of them. Then there would be pork butt, pork loin, ham hocks and bacon for everyone.

That was the good thing about hog; nothing went to waste. And what Caroline and the girls wouldn't eat, he could feed to Jack. And even though there would be only the few cans of tomatoes and green beans from last year for the winter, they could have salt pork and beans the whole time. Not only would it be a good meal, but a man could even get fat on that.

Charles started to turn his horse toward home when he heard a scuffling in the brush and the sound of squealing and a few grunts. Apparently, it was a sow and her young. They were squealing about something, something that was making them nervous and scared. Charles considered that maybe they had gotten wind of him. He knew that hogs had a sensitive sense of smell to assist them in turning up grubs and fungi and maybe, just maybe, they remembered the smell of men and the fact that men had shotguns.

Charles pulled up his horse and dismounted, pulled his rifle out of its sheath and started walking toward the sounds. Even though there wasn't much light, he knew that he could just blast into the brush with his 16 gauge rifle and he should be able to hit at least one of them. He held his rifle up and aimed at the moving brush, but before he could squeeze off a shot, the hogs burst out from the underbrush and blindly ran straight at him. Something was driving them in a frenzy and it happened so quickly, that Charles didn't have time to get out of the way. The piglets, some larger hogs and a huge sow came bursting out and knocked Charles flat on his back. Charles felt sharp hooves trample over one of his legs and then it seemed as if a demon straight from Hell was on him. A huge boar, obviously what had terrified the other hogs, ripped into his side with one of its tusks. Charles felt pain so intense that it took his breath from him. Then the boar, squealing the whole time, pulled out it's tusk and started to attack him again. Charles rolled over and curled up in a ball to protect his stomach and the boar started ramming into his back. Luckily for Charles, the way he was curled up and with the curve of the boar's tusks, the boar couldn't quite injure him except in a superficial way. After ramming into his back for a few seconds, the boar took off and Charles stayed still until the pain subsided enough for him to breath.

Slowly, Charles took in a few staggered breaths. The blood had already soaked his shirt and the boar had bruised his kidneys causing a throbbing pain. When Charles tried to move, pain shot through his whole body. There was blinding light behind his eyelids and then there was nothing but blackness.

Caroline sat by the fire, mending clothes. The children had been tucked in for more than an hour and now, three hours later, Charles still wasn't home. The worry ran constantly in her mind as if it was a dog chasing its tail. There would be no end until Charles walked in the door and then she would be so happy to see him. But now she was angry, worried but angry.

His only fault was his stubbornness. Although his tenacity and refusal to give up had served them well in many situations, Caroline always felt that someday it would be his downfall. She just hoped that this wasn't the day. But as she sat and rocked while doing her mending, she remembered the first time she had seen Charles' face in church. Caroline was only fifteen and he was eighteen and he looked at her and smiled and she was smitten. Charles courted her until Caroline's father decided that she was old enough to marry at seventeen. And then, the handsome young man with the head of wild curls and the sweetest smile and the eyes that always held a twinkle of mischief, was her husband. Finally, Caroline smiled to herself as she sat remembering, finally she was able to show him physically how very much she loved him. And love him she did.

Caroline sat back, resting her head against the back of the rocker. She closed her eyes for what was to be only a few minutes and fell asleep. And because she did, she didn't hear Charles' horse trot into the yard without it's rider.

Charles heard voices somewhere in the distance, at least it seemed to be at a distance but then he felt hands on him, so whoever was speaking was beside him, talking about him. He recognized a man's and a woman's voice and he tried to open his eyes but didn't seem to have the will to do it.

"Pa, he's hurt bad," he heard the woman say as she rolled him slightly away from her to get a look at his side and back.

"Yup, something got at him. Looks like he done been huntin' hogs and don't know no better than to come out here with only a 16 gauge. Looks like some ol' boar done got at him. Well, poor, dumb jackass. C'mon, girl, let's get goin' We got a long drive still."

"Pa, we ain't gonna leave him out here to bleed to death is we, pa?"

Charles was trying to follow their conversation; he wanted to know if they were going to leave him. Had he the control over his body that he needed, he would have begged them to take them.

"Girl, what we gonna do with some farmer that ain't never done nothin' for us."

"Ain't Christian, pa, it just ain't. Why the Bible says…"

"Addie, don't go quotin' no Bible to me. Your ma was Bible bound but she still died after you was born. Don't remember no Bible keeping' her alive none."

"C'mon, pa." Addie looked at the man on the ground who so obviously needed their help and despite all the blood and the darkness, she could see that he was beautiful, the most beautiful man she had ever seen and she wanted him. Addie felt that if she could nurse him back to health, he would be so grateful that he would marry her-or her pa could force him to marry her under the threat of a load of 00 buckshot.

"Girl, I swear you're gonna be the death o' me." The man put his rifle back on the wagon seat, grabbed the quilt they had used to pad the wooden slats, and let down the rear end of the wagon for loading the stranger. He pushed the supplies aside and threw the old quilt on the floor of the wagon.

Together, Addie and her pa managed to get Charles into the wagon. They had ignored his cries and moans of pain, there was nothing they could do about it anyway, and when he passed out again, the man only said that it was a blessing. And once they had Charles settled on the quilt, Addie crawled in beside him and looked at her future husband-if all her plans went well. Under the moonlight, she could see his features more clearly. "Good, God, almighty," Addie thought to herself, "he is one pretty man, much prettier than any I've ever seen. He done look like one of them archangels that they talk about in church." And she reached down and moved the hair that had fallen across his face and at that moment, Addie fell desperately in love with him. She bent down and kissed his forehead, caressing his cheek.

"I love you, mister man," she whispered to him, "and I'm gonna make you the best wife ever. You wait and see. You just wait." And Addie lay down beside him since her pa couldn't see over the piles of supplies, and held him the way she always imagined she would hold her man once she found one. She leaned over and kissed Charles on the cheek. "Good night, my darlin'," she said, and she nestled close to him, closed her eyes and nodded off as the horses kept the wagon heading for home at a nice, steady pace.

A noise woke Caroline and she sat up with a start; the light was peeking through the shutters and then she heard the sound again, a knock at the door. She felt panic grip her. Charles obviously hadn't come home or he would have awakened her to go to bed and now she was terrified that the knock at the door was bad news.

She went to the door, opened it, and there stood Mr. Edwards, a big smile on his face but when he noticed the expression on Caroline's face, his smile vanished. "What is it, Mrs. Ingalls?"

"Oh, Mr. Edwards," Caroline said, "something awful has happened to Charles. I know it!"

Mr. Edwards came in and Caroline put on coffee and opened the shutters. The girls weren't awake yet but soon would be, and Caroline didn't want them to catch her panic and fear; she would have to behave normally when they awoke and get them off to school as if today was just another day. Carrie, she hoped, was still too young to pick up on her fear.

They sat at the table and Caroline fed Mr. Edwards biscuits from dinner with butter and honey. He thanked her for the meal but she apologized for not feeding him better.

Mr. Edwards told her about seeing Charles' horse in the yard when he rode up and how he had been puzzled by that. And then, when he heard Caroline tell him the whole story, Mr. Edwards promised her that he would go looking for Charles; he would easily be able to track him since there had been no wind to disturb the tracks, he told her, and he would be able to follow both the horse's and the hogs' tracks.

Caroline collapsed with relief, dropping her head on her crossed arms on the table.

"Now, Mrs. Ingalls, don't fret anymore," Mr. Edwards said. He wanted to pat her on the head as one would a small child to comfort her, but held himself back. "I'm sure it's nothing serious. Charles just probably got lost in the darkness and everyone knows, when you're lost, you stay where you are. Why I wouldn't be surprised if he comes back before I do. Now you just get those little girls of yours off to school and don't be upset any more. Okay?"

Caroline looked at this big, bearded man who had proved himself many times over to be a friend to them and she did feel a wave of relief come over her, if for no other reason than that now there was someone else to share her worry. "Thank you, Mr. Edwards. You don't know what a comfort that is."

Mr. Edwards stood up, eager to get started. "I'll put Charles' horse away first," he said, but Caroline told him that she would do it; she wanted him to begin searching for her husband immediately. So Mr. Edwards put his hat back on, tipped it to her and left and Caroline closed the door, leaning on it for support. Then she said a silent prayer thanking the Lord for friends like Mr. Edwards.

Charles had vague memories of pain as if they were part of a bad dream. He also had seen a girl's face, not a woman's, but a young girl of about eighteen or nineteen hovering over him and tending to him. He tried to move, to sit up, and his lower back throbbed with pain as did his side.

He lay back down and as the pain subsided, he remembered that he had been torn by the tusk of a wild boar and that the boar had pounded him in the back in an attempt to slice him open with its tusks. Charles looked down and saw that his chest was wrapped with strips of cloth and that he was wet with sweat. He looked around and saw that he was in the bedroom of a cabin and he heard someone moving around in the other room.

"Hello," he called out and then regretted his action. He winced at the pain in his chest and had to breathe shallowly again. He heard footsteps coming toward him.

"Good," he heard her say, "You're finally makin' some sense."

Charles looked up and saw a young woman looking down at him, a smile on her lips. "You been babbling away 'bout God knows what the last day or so, and I was gettin' worried that you weren't never gonna be right in the head again. You hungry?"

"Who are you?" Charles asked. She was a plain, little thing with soft, brown hair and a slight, sad smile.

"I'm Addie, Addie Grace. My pa, well, we found you while we was bringin' home supplies. You been in some tussle with some hogs my pa said, cause there were hog grooves all 'round you. You got ripped along the side but I cleaned it good and wrapped it for you, but you got some bad bruises on your back. Pa said that you might be peein' blood for a while," she said mater-of-factly.

"Well, thank you, Addie, for taking care of me. My name's Charles Ingalls" Charles smiled at her and she burst into a big grin and blushed. "Can you tell me how long I've been here?"

"It's been almost three days and you been awful feverish." Addie reached over and felt his forehead. "I guess that last sweat you had broke your fever. That's good."

"Addie, I need to let my family know I'm okay. Can you get a message to them for me?' Charles could imagine that Caroline must be sick with worry; he had to let her know what had happened and, when he found out where he was, for someone to bring Doc Alden and come for him.

Addie now became worried. She suspected he had a wife; a man as pretty as he was couldn't go long without some woman putting a ring through his nose. He would want to get back to her, Addie thought. "Where's your family," Addie asked.

"Walnut Grove. Do you know where that is, Addie?"

"No, not really," Addie lied. She knew where Walnut Grove was; she and her father had passed through it on their way home. Addie rarely went into Walnut Grove herself, wouldn't know how to get there, but her pa knew. But he rarely went there because they didn't have the large amount of supplies he needed; the merchants there mainly provided for homesteaders and Addie's pa needed large amounts of flour, coffee and other comestibles to last them about half a year. He and his daughter were the only two on his small farm and they rarely had time to leave it.

"Do you think your pa does?" Charles couldn't tell if Addie was lying, but the way she avoided his eyes made him think she might be.

"Maybe. I can ask 'im."

"If I wrote something down, do you think he could get it to Walnut Grove somehow?'

"I don't know. Like I said, I can ask 'im. But I think that right now, you need to get some food into you. I made a rabbit stew last night and I'm gonna get you some." Addie turned to leave.

"Thank you, Addie."

Addie turned to look at him when he said her name. There was something about his voice and the way her name came out of his mouth that touched her, that made her more determined to have him as her husband. "Yes? What?"

"Would you bring me some paper and a pen, if you have some?"

"Yeah," Addie said. "I think we got some." And she left the room.

It had been two days and Mr. Edwards finally came upon the farm house. He stayed back, watching to see who lived in the house and if they were friendly. He had followed the wagon's trail all the way there. It hadn't been difficult to follow, the wagon was weighed down and left deep grooves in the earth.

When Mr. Edwards had first come upon the scene of the boar attack, he was taken aback; there was blood on the ground and a strip of what looked like a man's shirt. And then he had found Charles' hat. By the footprints at the spot, Mr. Edwards deduced that two people, it looked like a man's and a woman's footprints, had more or less dragged him to the wagon. All this, Mr. Edwards understood by the tracks and marks on the ground and the way the grass had been torn up by the sharp hooves of the hogs as they raced over it in their frenzy.

Mr. Edwards had to ponder whether to go back to Caroline and tell her what he saw and what he thought or to go on; he decided to continue. And now he was at the farmhouse where the wagon tracks had brought him. He watched as a man arrived home holding a hoe over his shoulder and went into the barn. The he saw a young girl come out of the house and go into the barn as well. Mr. Edwards thought that this was his chance to see if Charles was inside so he left his horse tied to a tree and snuck around to the back of the house. He peeked into the few windows but either the curtains were drawn or the window showed nothing of importance. Now, Mr. Edwards knew that he needed to feel out the people to see if they would welcome him or blow him away as a dangerous stranger-and if they had Charles.

Mr. Edwards went back to his horse, waited until the two people went into the house and then rode up to the front. He was about to knock on the door when it opened and a man stood there pointing a shotgun at him.

"What you want, stranger?" the man asked.

Mr. Edwards put his hands up slightly, palms out to show that he meant no harm. "I just come to ask if a friend of mine was here," Mr. Edwards said. He looked beyond the man and saw a young woman standing inside, a dishcloth in her hands. She was eyeing him suspiciously.

"What makes you think we got someone here? Just my daughter and me here, right, Addie."

"That's right, Pa. Ain't no one else here."

Mr. Edwards was sure they were lying but he didn't know the reason why. But if they weren't lying, then either he had made a major mistake in tracking and Charles wasn't there or he was dead and they either were or weren't responsible and didn't want to be blamed for it.

"Well, do you mind if I come in for a minute?" Mr. Edwards asked. "I've been travelin' for almost two days and I sure could use something else to sit on than my horse's saddle and I wouldn't turn down a little warm food either. I've been livin' on hardtack and a squirrel that I caught and ate last night-barely a mouthful." Mr. Edwards gave his nicest, least-threatening smile. If he could just get inside.

"Addie," the man called, never taking his eyes or his rifle off of Mr. Edwards, "get this man some of them biscuits you made last night and give 'im a slab of that cold, roasted venison."

After a few minutes, Addie, her father having stepped aside a bit, handed Mr. Edwards a packet of food wrapped in paper. The she quickly stepped back.

"Well, I thank you for the food," Mr. Edwards said. "I guess I'll be off now."

"Make sure you do," Addie's father said, "'cause I see you on my property again and I won't be so nice." And he held the rifle on Mr. Edwards until he rode off and disappeared into the surrounding trees.

Later that evening, Addie sat in the front room, rocking in her mother's rocking chair, looking at the note in her hand. She had tried to read it but could only recognize a few of the words and so she couldn't quite decide what to do with it. She had promised Charles-his name was like magic to her written at the bottom of the note, so beautiful-that she would get it to a neighbor to have it taken to Walnut Grove until he was well enough to travel, but Addie wanted to just toss it on the fire. She didn't want Charles to leave; she still loved him.

Earlier, as Charles had slept, she had sat by his bed and watched his gentle breathing and admired his beauty. Charles had told her of his wife and his three young daughters and how he had been a fool and gone out all hot-headed to kill the hogs that had destroyed his vegetable garden. Addie wanted to be back in Walnut Grove with him, she wanted to be the wife he was aching to see again, to whom he wanted so desperately to return. And she started to cry as she rocked, because she knew it wouldn't be. Even if she burned the note he had written to his wife, he wouldn't forget her and fall in love with Addie Grace. But there had to be a way. Addie sat and thought; pa said that there was always a way if a body studied on it long enough. And Addie crushed the note in her hand and let it fall to the floor.

Charles woke up and gingerly sat up. His back still ached and Addie's father had been right as Charles found out when he had first relieved himself; he had blood in his urine. Charles stood up, supporting himself with the headboard. He waited until his head cleared and then he walked to the door and opened it where he supported himself with the door frame. He saw Addie asleep in the chair and at her feet was a crumpled piece of paper. He recognized his note to Caroline.

Charles looked around the room. He saw Addie's father's jacket hanging on a hook in the wall. He walked over to it and slipped it on since he had no shirt; Addie told that it had been ripped and soaked in blood so she had burned it. Although he felt the world still swimming around him, Charles felt that now he should leave, should try to slip out and into the barn and ride back home; Addie obviously wasn't going to help him, so he quietly slipped out the door, watching to see if Addie waked, and headed for the barn.

In the darkness, Charles could make out the silhouette of a lamp and as he reached for it, his hand brushed against a box of matches so he lit the lamp and the two horses shuffled and snorted in their stalls.

"Easy, boy," Charles said placing the bit of a bridle into one horse's mouth. Charles looked around-there was no saddle.

"Oh, Lord help me," Charles thought. "I'm going to have to ride bare-back and it's going to hurt my sore back even more.' But he wanted to get home and now was the time. Then he heard footsteps, turned around and there was Addie, pointing at him with her pa's rifle.

"Where you think you're goin'?" she asked.

"I'm just borrowing your horse to go home; I'll see he gets returned. I'm not horse stealing-I know that's a crime." Charles looked at the young woman before him and fear ran through him; he was more frightened of her holding a rifle at him, her finger trembling on the trigger, than if her father was standing there; inexperience and the emotions of a young girl were both unpredictable.

"You can't leave," Addie said, "so's you just turn around and get back in your room. You're too sick to leave and iffen I have to shoot you to keep you here, I will."

"Addie," Charles said, "why would you want to do that?"

"'Cause, 'cause," Addie began to cry, the rifle shaking in her hands, "I love you and I want you to be my husband."

Now Charles understood. He knew by the way she looked at him and how tenderly that she had taken care of him that she had a fondness for him, but love? That hadn't occurred to him. "Addie, you know I'm married and that I have daughters. I couldn't just leave them and stay with you even if I loved you."

"But you could love me," she sobbed, and lowered the rifle to wipe away her tears. "I'd be a good wife to you and I'd give you sons to make up for them daughters of yours. I'd se to it you was happy." Addie was desperate but in the back of her mind, she knew she couldn't force him to love her, that no matter how much she loved him, how strongly she felt, she couldn't change him or make him forget his family. And she dropped the rifle and covered her face with her hands while she sobbed.

Charles, went to her and held her gently while he patted her back. "Addie, Addie, one day you'll meet a man…"

"No," Addie cried, "there ain't never gonna be no one!"

And then Charles saw a shadow outside and a man stepped into the barn, a rifle in his hands.

"Isaiah," Charles gave a sigh of relief. "Am I ever glad to see you."

Addie swung around and saw the man who had earlier come to their door. Now she realized that he had been looking for Charles, that she would have lost him sooner or later-she always knew.

"You all right, Charles?" Isaiah Edwards asked.

"Yes, yes I am, thanks to Addie here," Charles smiled at Addie who stood staring at the two men.

"Well, get mounted and we'll get you home. Caroline's must be ill with worry." Mr. Edwards still held his rifle.

Charles Ingalls, leading his horse, and Mr. Edwards walked out of the barn and proceeded to mount their horses. Addie Grace just stood and watched, tears rolling down her cheeks again; the most beautiful man she had ever seen was riding out of her life, riding away and never coming back. And as Charles turned to wave goodbye to her, Addie didn't respond; it would be too difficult to wave him out of her life with a gesture of her hand, so she just stood and watched him ride away until he disappeared into the darkness.

~Finis~


End file.
